Last year, my employer moved to a new building. After we were all moved and settled, they cleaned out the old building and held an auction for items they would no longer using.
Now the back story is that I had my eye on some chairs that used to sit around a table near the kitchen. Before the auction was announced, I asked the head of facilities if I could buy them. He told me to talk to the COO. So I asked him. He told me, “Everyone’s been asking about those chairs!” Nothing happened for months. I kept bugging him about it, and mentioning it around the office so people would know they were MINE.
Finally, word was sent out that a silent auction would take place from 5:30 to 6:30 on a Tuesday evening after word. Now I’ve been around and eBay auction or seventeen, so I’ve learned the best strategy is to wait until the end of an auction, before swooping in a placing a bid just as the auction ends. That keeps the price lower. But this was no virtual contest where I could sit and hit refresh as the clock ticked down. It was real life, and I was about to get down and dirty with my coworkers.
So while everyone else rushed over to the old building after work, I took my sweet time, picking up a friend, the husband and the kid. We sauntered in just after 6, as everyone else stood nervously sweating near the object of their desire. The AC had been off for weeks, since the building was unoccupied. I was worried that someone had spotted my diamond(s) in the rough and would give me a contest.
“Where are my chairs?” I announced. The older crowd tittered and gave uncertain glances toward one corner. THERE THEY WERE! Instead of the six chairs I had been expecting, there was now a set of twelve olive green and aluminum sweeties. My heart fluttered. Who was I going to have to outbid? I grabbed the bid sheet. Not one bid had been entered!
My strategy appeared to have worked. Either that, or none of my sweet Oklahoma-bred coworkers had yet realized the hipster potential of behind the seemingly benign vinyl. I took a turn around the rest of the room, checking out the rest of the loot. Some friends from North Dakota had spotted a mid-centuryesque chair. Another friend laid claim to a velvet club couch in gold.
As the clock neared 6:25, I cracked. I jotted down my name on the still empty sheet and put in a bid: $5. (Hey, I’m cheap!) Now I was sweating and nervous, casting glances at the clock. Would I have to up the ante to take home my future children? But at 6:30, without fanfare the auction was called. They were mine!
And then, my friends, my superhero husband helped me figure out how to recover them. Now they look like this:
And they will soon surround the awesome dining room table that we’ll build someday.
From vinyl to fabulous.
Don’t you wish you were married to a superhero? Ok, maybe you are, just not MY superhero.